My own little War
by therealme1123
Summary: My name is Amanda. Who am I really? That's what I'd like to know.But I do know one thing, it has something to do with Maximum Ride, whoever she is... Better than it sounds, Really! T for safety.
1. Do you have a problem?

this just popped into my head so I don't htink it's very good but I want to know what you guys think. I'm not going to post again if you guys don't want more, so I'm counting on you to review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride, mostly because I'm not named James Patterson, and I'm not living in luxury down in Florida. Instead, I'm busy typing because I'm bored and have nothing else to do. So go figure.

Silver moon sparkling

And in its light I fear

The life I hold so close

Can be so easily ripped away

Wishing my attackers stop

While running from the dark

I'm finding pain in light

The breeze flowing softly

Lulling my tired form

The sleep I've been denied

Comes often to collect its dues

The twigs snap under my hurried steps

Hungry calls come from the two-faced moon

I can't run anymore

The wind welcomes the presence of my wings

And soon I'm off my sore and blistered feet

My feathers welcoming

The clean green flowing dew within the air

I look behind once for the sight of my own assailants

Their screaming hungry howl that only I can fear

Before looking up and getting lost within

The frightening light of the silvery sparkling moon

I stopped typing. Did I just write that? Why did I just write that? I look across the room at my reflection in the mirror. I looked the same as always, my light brown hair falling in front of my face and my blue and lightly amber eyes giving my own self a black yet angry, hungry stare. Why do I always do that, I wondered. The others all seem to notice that I always back away, arms crossed and apparently glaring. I don't mean to. I try to ft in. It just happens.

If only there was something you could definitely point at and say, there, that's wrong with her. If only. I'm the only person who looks like me that I know personally. You might say that I look like a person from one of those make up commercials, always tan, always pretty good looking, guys always stare, etc. But everyone I know is either, Mexican, white, or black. No in-betweens. Except me.

So many people have seen my family with me and asked, " Are you adopted? Are you Russian? Are you Australian? Italian? Native American?" No. My parents gave birth to me, even if that itself were some kind of curse they sent upon my to make life harder.

The alarm clock rings its loud, annoying chime and I get up to turn off my computer, because it's time to get ready for school. I have to get up for the stupid bus by 6:34 am because that's when it comes to my street and I don't have any other ride there. Ride. The word sticks in my head as it taunts me.

The little people inside my head, you know, not the schizophrenic kind, but the kind that reflect the different parts of your personality, they were chattering away about this word. _Why?_ They all seemed to stop and look at me, or at least that's the way I see them, as if I'm the dumbest girl on the planet.

The furious one must have been talking to them again. I walked slowly to its cell in the middle of the space. _Why do you do this to me?_

_To protect you._

_Can't you see that by not telling me that you are hurting me?_

_These things are best left to self-discovery; like I've told you every other time you or anyone else has asked that asinine question._

I left it at that, returning my thoughts to my place on my bed, tying my shoes. That stupid part of me is always making trouble. I wanted to make it leave, but the shrink I see won't help. She says that every part of you is made for a reason. But I can't even begin to seem to understand how this part was created. And she has no idea just how annoying and peevish it gets.

I made my way through my routine and finally to the bus stop. My neighbor Kayla greeted me warmly, but for some reason I shied away. I'll never know why.

_THREAT._

I felt my body tense as a car's headlights beamed in our direction. Then I consciously made myself let the feeling pass. It won't work other wise.

A few minutes later, a large yellow overly late bus made its way to the stop half a block from my house. I could sense somehow something had changed. Why wouldn't it? It's the first day of sophomore year!

The school is teeming with lively activity. It's refreshing, having nothing but parent drama for three months. I feel like I've been missing out on my favorite soap opera or something! I honestly love the feelings of joy and elation I've been missing for so long.

My best friend Amanda walks up. She is shorter than me by about 5 inches, just barely reaching the underside of my chin, and she is a slightly pudgy Mexican. But I wouldn't say that to her face. " Hey Manda!"

That's what she's always called me. We both have the same name, so it's a bit of a joke between us, and we've never found nicknames for each other or anything. We've known each other for about 6 years, and some people think we're joined at the hip. " Hey Amanda."

" Are you tired?"

" Not in the least, but my skin is flaring up again. I can't seem to control the itching this time."

" It must be because it's the first day. That's what it's been every other time, so no skipping!"

We walk along to our first class, World History with Mr. Gonzalez. He had us sit wherever we wanted, and then made a seating chart. Now, normally, I would've like this, but Matt decided to sit on the side that wasn't taken up by Amanda. And I would've liked the class, too, because history has always been fun, but this guy has all the facts wrong. The book is even wrong! And it won't say what Michelangelo's last name is! I want to scream at the book for ruining my favorite subject for the entire year. " Stupid book," I want to yell. " It's Bonarati!" A/N: I might have gotten the spelling wrong on that, but phonetically that is his last name. But I can't. Damn.

Most of the rest of the day went by without hassle, up until gym. I was in an all guy class, for starters, and there was the entirely too large problem that I'm a lot stronger than I want to be and these guys don't look like they can stand up to an accidental swipe of my nails or even my stepping on their toe. I can just imagine the bruises they're going to go home with. Some, I know, will get whipped for being beat up by a girl; we're in Texas for Pete's sake!

My dad always tells me, It's the men that are supposed to be rowdy, girl. I answer, but if I wasn't me, where would you be? You'd be in jail, Mom would be in a psych ward, and Dinah would be in an orphanage. You couldn't last without me. And that includes my rowdy behavior. He nods his head resignedly, signaling a little "go me" parade in my head.

I follow along in my little daydream through to English, another one of my favorites. We were lead like sheep to the large library near the Commons. There we were instructed to sit down and watch another presentation about the year's book nominees that we had to read and discuss. I tuned them out after that, wanting more to be surprised by what we were going to read than to be expecting my reaction to it up until the book was finally in my hands. And I was.

The librarian had called out my name, and I shot my head up, giving her a frantic but questioning glance " What?" she asked, noticing the agitated part of my stare. " Do you have a problem with Maximum Ride?"


	2. Publisher's Coffee House

Not to be harsh... but this is kind of pathetic! I know atleast 17 of you wonderful readers are ruining your and my full potential by not reviewing! and that's only up until I've posted! I really want reviews guys, I'm serious. So even if your anonymous, even if you hate what I wrote or thought it stank or whatever, REVIEW!

Disclaimer: anybody who thinks I look like James Patterson is really insulting. Not an insult to James Patterson, but I'm clearly a girl and am happy as such. Thank you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Okay, that was embarrassing! As if I didn't have enough to handle! I hurried out of the library to get to my locker on the second floor. Comm. Arts was the last class so all I had to do was put the superfluous books back in my locker, and blow this popsicle stand. Sadly, Jason had other plans.

" Hey, Amanda! How was your first day?"

His eyes were alight with humor at my display of pent-up disgust. " Can it get more boring? I think that all the teachers are out to kill me… of sheer boredom!"

Jason's been in several of my honors classes, and my both my gifted drop-in program and my normal gifted class. I seriously think he's been doing that on purpose, since he's been flirting all the time since last year. In fact, just about every guy sophomore and up has been at least staring for a day before they learn to keep themselves from drooling. Jason's a good friend, though, and it'd be weird to go out with him. You know the feeling?

" Are you open later? There's this new coffeehouse on Old Main; It's amateur night tonight, and I thought you'd want to come."

" Is anybody else going?"

He stared at me strangely, as if he thought I was dense. I wasn't; I was just being kind. " We're going as friends, right? So is anybody else coming?"

" I'll ask Colleen and Joe, they seem more like those kinds of people."

Jason was crestfallen, but I sure as heck wasn't going out with him, or with anyone. I like being single, to the disappointment of my entirely (and surprisingly) large group of family and friends.

The coffeehouse in the historic district that Jason took me to was beatnik heaven. It was mostly black but one corner was covered in a Pollock-style glow-in-the-dark paint-job, and there were several local modern artists work displayed here. I knew a lot of them; I'd watched them being made.

My Mom's an artist that works in a studio with several other artists and ever since I was a little kid I'd watch her draw and paint and sketch. The same went for anybody else who didn't mind. Mom did just about everything, but portraits, my god, were her best. She even had some of her drawings in her high school yearbook! They looked so real that you could come out and touch them, and the ones of hers that I could see here were definitely some of her better ones.

Jason got us a table near the stage and we waited for Colleen and Joe to get here. It took them about fifteen minutes, but it was worth the wait. Colleen and I work together at the animal shelter, and Joe and I have been friends since the 3rd grade, so they know me really well. Plus, Colleen is one of the few people I've told about my human phobias.

"You sure you feel okay about coming here? I know how much you need caffeine, but still!"

Even though her unusual greeting was harsh, her eyes were smiling. " Hello to you to," then I turned to Joe. " Hey, long time no glare!"

So what does he do, he glares. It's been a private joke from the third grade when we'd have teacher-staring wars. We'd both start staring at the teacher when we were both über-bored, and then we'd wait to see which one of us would creep her out the most. I usually won, but when he did, he usually had to sit in a corner for longer. Stupid corner, you only make me want to rebel. You have been defeated in purpose; therefore I mock thee. It reminds me so much of this one Chinese proverb: When you hold a bird tightly, it will bite your hand until you let it go. If you hold a bird to loosely, it will fly away. But if you hold a bird firmly and let it go often, it will always fly back.Wait a sec... What is it with me and birds?

I was jarred form my thoughts by Jason climbing his way up the stage. What is he going to do up there, the chicken dance? Into the microphone he said," this poem is called Angel. I hope you like it.

My Angel

A love my life has never known

Glowing light

Surrounds your precious face

Life fills all who come beside you

And sickness comes not near

Smiles find their spot upon your face

The dimples giving away the happiness

That couldn't be contained within your eyes

My Angel

Rain has fallen

The tears fall down your stricken face

My hand reaches for you

And ev'ry time it's slapped away

Pallor finds your now gaunt form

The darkness quickly spreading through your veins

The sickness gleaming from the hollow of your eye

Your smile is now found buried

Beyond the grave of those you loved

"The past is gone," I try to say

But by that time You're gone

Today

I try again

But yours is love I'll never know

For my dark angel walks alone

I didn't even begin to wonder who he was talking about. But then again, I didn't have to. Jason had stared at me through his entire performance. I hate admirers. They suck. Really. It's like I'm not allowed to take care of myself in my own way and be happy. I have to be what they want me to be while they take care of me and whatever. Sucks buckets.

Thank you to the people upstairs! My phone rang as Jason walked back up to the table, probably to ask me to marry him or something. That guy is just plain to bold about that. He knows I don't like him that way. I've told him.

"Hello?"

" Hey kiddo, it's me. I need you over here at the studio. I need models, really but you're pretty and thin, so get over here."

" Okay."

" And kiddo? Don't go to the humane society for a few days."

"Why? You know I love going there, and I haven't done anything. I swear."

" Don't swear in front of your mother. And this isn't a discussion. A girl was just murdered for her baby in the woods a few blocks down. I don't want you out there."

I could find several huge problems with her statement, when I my thoughts were again interrupted. I'm finding a definite pattern here.

" Is Colleen there?"

" Yes, mom. Want to talk to her?"

" No, that's okay. Just let her know that her mom says for the both of you to come down here after school. She just heard the news on the radio and went into a panic. That girl was only 2 years older than you are."

" Do you want her to come over now?"

" No. I don't need her at the moment. I think Jerry might need her for some new clay project he's doing, or maybe Daph the daft is doing something she'll need help with. Who knows? But I need you here."

" Okay, I'm coming."

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You'd think this was more of a modern warehouse with white paint than an artistic colony of sorts. I live here, in one of the many live/work spaces, with my mom and Dinah. Speaking of which, the same little girl ran up and hugged me on my way in, chattering about her day in elementary school. She is such a cute kid, her brown curls flowing next to her white skin.

I picked her up with one arm, the way Dad used to before he went psycho and tried to kill us, and carried her up to our home. It was colorfully painted, the living area was splotched in multicolored designs that ceased only at the hall way to our bedrooms. Dinah's room has butterflies painted floor to ceiling, Mom's is light blue for the most part with a starry night mural on one wall. But mine is different. Mine is entirely a mural. The room looks like a forest of pines and oaks and poplars and even the ceiling has the night sky painted on it. I felt so peaceful in here, it felt so full of life. Even the lack of furniture couldn't be considered bad in this room. All I needed was a bed, a couple orange crates, and some closet space. That's all we could afford, too.

Artistry doesn't pay as much as people would hope, and working at the humane society can only do so much. But the housing is free. As long as mom is working on something, we can stay.Dinah waived her small hand in front of my eyes. " Hello! Are you in there?"

" Yes."

" Mom's been calling you from upstairs for about 10 minutes now. She seems mad. And can I get a coke?"

" What kind?"

" I want a Sprite without the fizzies."

That kid gets more like me everyday. That's the kind I always get, because I get hiccups otherwise, only I add lemon to it. I grab Dinah's coke and run up the stairs to the work level. All of the living and working spaces are connected, so it's like a big family here. Mom's in her studio, her easels covered in portraits of angels. What is it with people and angels and birds lately? " Hey Amanda! Thanks for coming. I want to know what you think of these so far."

She showed me some of her latest sketches, and the people looked familiar. There were six of them, three boys and three girls. The oldest girl didn't have a face, but other than that she looked a lot like me, tall, light brown hair with blonde streaks, slim figure. It looked like the two oldest boys were next in age, the first tall and dark (possibly Greek?), while the other is really pale with lightly reddish hair. Then comes the second oldest girl. She's chocolate colored, with a mouth the size of a dinner plate. Probably talks a lot.

The last two look a lot like siblings. The both have curly pale blond hair and white skin with icy blue eyes. The older one, the boy, looks more mischievous, while the little girl looked angelic. But the one that most interested me was the one with no face." I like 'em, Mom. But who're they of? Or are these just for rent?"

" No, they're not just for rent. An author called Pattersmith or something-or-other called and wanted to see some prelims for a possible cover art-op."

That is really good news! " Yay! So who are the people you've drawn? What book are they from?"

" Well, he says he wants me to draw the main characters from Maximum Ride. Isn't that exciting?"

My head snapped up at the mention of the name. She gave me a look and I changed the subject. "So… you said you needed a model?"

" Yes. I need you to perch yourself there and get a stoic look… no a little less angry, more calm… carefree, almost, but stoic, kind of ready-to-go-the-distance-and-win kind of look… there, you've got it. Now hold still."

Mom began to draw, her pencils moving fast and furiously. It only took about a half hour, which for "live" drawings is pretty short. I wanted to look at it, but she said that when the publishers get here is the first time she's showing the drawing in public. Well, that's what she wanted to say. At the sound of "publishers" a flock of artists flew over to Mom, asking loads of questions. I made my way out of the crowd before they scared me to death and went to make dinner for Dinah.

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Said publishers came on a bright Saturday morning. I know because Dinah and I were watching cartoons and Mom was still asleep, like every Saturday. I was eating my breakfast of bacon and cheddar grits when a couple people came in to the invisible boundary that made up our home. Like I said they're all connected. Oh, you thought there were walls? There are only a few walls to designate where something starts and ends, but there aren't that many doors. You could walk right in or out of my part of the complex without making a sound. " Hello, we're here to see Ms. Frank. Do you happen to know if this is the right place? We were under the distinct impression that she lived in an artist's colony."

" I like your sense of humor."

" We're publishers, miss, we can't afford to have a sense of humor, so please answer the question."

" You're standing in the middle of an artist's colony. In fact, in that room over there you will hear said artist snoring. She lives here. So, I'll show you upstairs and then I'll get her up there to meet you."

They looked at me like they thought I was either someone they knew, or like I was about to rip their heads off, but they followed me up the wide steps anyway. After getting them settled in a couple of chairs, I rushed down another set of steps to get Mom up and running. She doesn't like me for it, fine. But I'm not going to care about her sleeping habits one bit if having next month's groceries is on the line.

She flew up the steps when she heard they were here and I followed behind, almost tripping up the stairs on her feet. Mom gave the two men a little talk about what she thought about the characters and everything, and then she unveiled her concepts.

The first one was of Angel. She was flying with the wind flowing softly under her beautiful white wings, and at this the publishers marveled at the life she could bring to a character. They didn't like the next one at all. It was of the Gasman. The publishers said that he looked too old and too angry. Nudge was the next one. Her hair was flowing down to her shoulders in tight frizzy curls, while the purveyors stood in awe at the detail Mom put into her.

The next two weren't too memorable, and compared to Mom's other works they weren't that great, but the two after that just knock your socks off! Mom's customers looked totally amazed. The two drawings were almost identical, but with different settings. One had a forest beneath the girl, Max, and the other was a cityscape. "You've found her."

" Excuse me?"

" That is definitely Maximum Ride. We'll want to take these last two to our office and send it to Mr. Patterson. I think he'll especially like this one."

The man held up the one with the forest, and I looked at it more closely, noticing for the first time that the forest looked a lot like the mural in my room, and the girl looked suspiciously like me.

Again, review! Please and Thank you.MR


	3. My life in ashes

Two chapters in one day? I know, I'm spoiling you. Just kidding. this one's short, but important. Please review!MR

Disclaimer: Me no own Max Ride. There, now even a caveman can read it. Caveman: hey, that's racist! Me: So sue me.  
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I lived in the house on the cliff. I can't see the outside of it much, because even though we float, we don't want to drift away from our waiting spot. Here, in the place just before purgatory, we wait for our loved ones. I was waiting for several people, but I don't know who. We go by everyday, like we normally would, us ghosts, the only real difference is the mail. We can get mail everyday, even though we never do, and they tell us what our loved ones are thinking when they think or pray for us. It makes us so happy to hear their voices. When they die, too, they come over to this house on the cliff, and then we don't have to go through the next life alone.

I had gotten mail today, the long expanse of nothing but the sound of their tears had frightened me. But I heard his voice, " I miss you so much," he'd said. Then the rest of them chorused the same kind of thing. That went on for weeks, sometimes it was those people (I don't know their names), sometimes it was my mother's brothers voices, sometimes it was Dinah. Anyway, it kept me moving each day, knowing that I could look forward to hearing their voices.

Then the mail stopped coming. It stopped coming for days. The others said it was because of the creature in the glass room. It was used for storage and they said that it hid among the boxes. One of the oldest ones said he was a good man, lived a good life and was in love with his best friend, a girl he'd grown up with. He stayed here for her, but when it was All Souls day, he went down like we do and went to see her. She was married and had 5 kids! So he stays here, all alone, waiting for her to come to him, to let him go to the pearly gates without fear. I said it was a lot like my story, back on Earth.

Then it was All Souls day (time flows weird here), and I saw them putting flowers on my grave. But one of the five was missing, I looked all over but I couldn't find him. I walked in my little form around the graveyard, stopping in front of my headstone. Next to my grave was his. I knew it was his, even though there was no name.

I flew back to the house on the cliff in a hurry, my anger turning into flames that came off my ghostly skin. I ran through the house to the glass room, opened the door and screamed," I know you're in there. I know you're in here you lying bastard! Come out and fight me. You took him away from me you stupid bastard! He's gone now and I'm alone and you took him from me! I hate you! I hate you!" I kept going like the chime of a clock, and finally it appeared, just as the house began to burn. He came between the boxes, and bayed. The light from the fire showed him to look like a wolf on its hind legs. Then he came at me. I ran, afraid of such a reaction. When I got out of the house I shut the door, but he pushed against it…

I sat up quickly from my bed, the sweat dripping from my face. It was 5:24, about time to get up, I looked for the light switch and immediately found Dinah sitting at the space where a door should be. "They're here," she murmured, sending shivers down my spine.

I got up out of bed and walked over to my little sister, " Who's here, Dinah?"

" I don't know their names, but they're here. I don't like these people. Can I have a coke?"

" Not right now Dinah, it's really early. Now take me to where you put them."

She took my hand in her little 6 year-old one and guided me down to where 6 men sat. they looked like they were in their 20s, so I have no idea what they want with me, especially at this hour. " What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

One of them walked all the way up to me and raised a heater from his coat pocket. " Don't make a sound."

I didn't, but that didn't make it any easier. They grabbed my wrists and tied them together, then they picked me up and dragged me out of the complex. Then they did the unthinkable. Right in front of Dinah's worried face, they locked the door, then they threw gasoline around the bottom edge and set my home on fire. After letting me look for a few seconds, they pulled a burlap sack over my head and drove off into the morning sun.


	4. Wings

I know, this one is short, too. But I wanted it to have some kind of breaking point between chapters so it flows better. Hope you like this and thanks to the 3 people who have reviewed! To everyone else: Review!MR

Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, and I'm too tired to come up with something snappy.

" How is she?"

I heard the voice, a woman's, causing the tension in the room to spike. It was hard to open my eyes, and when I did I didn't like what I saw. I was on a cold metal table with even colder restraints, and there were people with white jackets and needles looming over me. This is not good.

I tried to pull from my restraints and they gave way, but I was turned over onto my stomach and given some kind of medicine so I couldn't move. Sadly, these people forgot the medicine that keeps the pain at bay. Crazy sadists.

I screamed as they put a scalpel into my back along the side of my spine. So maybe I can't be the world's toughest chick, but I'm still tough enough to know that that freaking hurt! They dragged it along, dangerously close to permanently disabling me, and finally they stopped a few inches from where my spine connects to my hips. Then they did it to the other side, earning another pain-filled shriek.

The scientist reached into the incision and pulled something out of my back. Now, believe me, if I weren't already freaking out, this would be a good time to start. They finished what they were doing and I thankfully blacked out.

Waking up in a crate hurts. Especially after having no sleep and everything else I've just been through. I can't even believe that all of that happened in one day. It's like the worst day ever. But you want to know what's worse? Waking up next to a guy while your both in the same crate, after all this has happened to you. So can you guess what happened? You're close… I woke up next to a dead guy and a live guy whilst in said crate after all this has happened to me.

My scream had wakened the live guy from his slumber, and he covered my mouth. " It's okay, It's a good thing. He's not hurting anymore."

That's all the boy said, but for some reason I felt that the dead were better off in this kind of place. The dead guy was short, probably about 8 years old, and had lizard like skin. However, the guy across from me was darker with black hair and black eyes. He smiled at me, and he looked like such a child.

That made me think; why would I be shut up in a cage with children? And why boys? Surely there were girls, right? I couldn't think about that anymore. The boy stiffened as I started to hear footsteps coming from the hall. The door to the room creaked, and one guy in a white coat came in. " Hello, Max."

The guy in the cage shifted and looked at me funny. "I'm not Max. It's Amanda, and I don't want to talk to you. So leave me alone."

This angered him a bit, and man, he should see me when I'm in my game. He could fry an egg on his face! " Come on, Max. No more games. We need you for testing."

TESTING?! "Shove it where the sun don't shine, Fatty. No way in Hell I'm going off to do freaking testing just because you ask nicely."

So what happens? You guessed it. I got a needle full of anesthetics. I woke up in a conference room, kind of like the kind they use for interrogating prisoners in jail. It even had the one-way mirror. " So Max, how have you been holding up lately?"

" Why did you kill them?"

"I'm the one asking questions, Max."

" If that were the case, then this is Pleasantville, USA, and you're in a dress and pearls. But sometimes we don't get what we want. So quit the shit and answer the question. Oh, and also my name, for the last time, is Amanda. Say it with me, Uhh- man- duh. Pretty nice, huh?"

" So then, Max, who did I kill?"

" You killed my mom and Dinah, and Gerald, and Daphne, and Mrs. Sandy, and our dog Jack, and Smoky the cat, and old man Rivers, and Tommy, and Donny Shepard, and our old landlady Mrs. Kingsley, and even the unstoppable Jacqueline and Judy. But it wasn't you who killed them. All of you killed them. Every single one of you is responsible for killing them. And I'm going to make you pay for it. So I'm going to ask one last time, why did you kill them?"

The fat man laughed in my face. " They never existed."

I almost gasped, but like Hell I was gonna give this guy that satisfaction. " they existed, and you all killed them."

"Max…"

"It's Amanda!" I growled.

" Your name is Maximum Ride. You are a human avian hybrid, and all the rest that you remember has been a test. Those people never existed. They were always part of your imagination. You cannot escape your fate. So tell me, how do you like your wings, now that you recognize them as part of your body?"

" what wings?"

" The ones in your back, Max."

I reached back to touch my skin, but instead found something entirely new there. Creepy! " Go ahead, there's enough room to unfurl them."

That wasn't what I was thinking, Mac, but I'll do it anyway, just to make you feel good about your disgustingly awful self. I unfurled the feathered masses in my back, watching as the guy across from me stared in awe. Stupid git. I've eaten grits smarter than you. In the mirror behind the whitecoat, I saw that my wings were a lot like my hair, light brown with light streaks and splotches. I like them kind of, but it's awkward having this newfound appendage, you know. It's like growing an extra arm. I just sat there for a few hours before the guy got the hint that talking to me was pointless and shoved me back in the crate, sans dead guy.

" You made it back in one piece."

" What'd you expect, that I'd have tentacles next?"

" You never know. Iggy came back blind once. That kid over there," he pointed to a cage across the room," lost a kidney. There's been things that have come back wrong. You can just hope that it's the veterans that get it first though, the people who know what to expect."

" I apparently am a veteran."

" they didn't just change you?"

" How else could you explain these?"

I watched his eyes widen as I unfurled my wings, feeling the air between my feathers again.

" I can, it just takes a while. Plus it's overly boring, filled with jargon, and pretty nasty."

"Funny. So tell me Mr. Funny Man, what's your name?"

"I don't have one."

Funny Man kind of drew into himself after a while. He stopped talking, stopped smiling, and grew to be this lazy, sad mess. That lived in my crate. I flipped out on him once and he blew up right back at me. Then he bit the mesh of the door to the crate, and his canine came out. I guess that's the normal time for us hybrids, but I don't know, then mine came out (again!) a couple days later. So I named him Fang.

Weeks have passed. And I now know these truths: there area six avian hybrids that live in our room. I am the oldest one. The others names are Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gasman, and Angel. I named them all. I'm one of many hybrids being experimented on at the School, and I'm 10 years old.


	5. Can I say goodbye?

This one is just a little weird, so bear with me. it's kind of a bridge to the next chapter. So please read and review. Thanks to aviator101 and SilverScreech for repeatedly reviewing.MR

Disclaimer: I don't own Max ride and affiliated characters and places, etc., etc. thank you.

I had my nightmare again. I hate it so much, and Fang keeps asking what I dream about when I wake up screaming. I don't want to lie, but I don't want to tell the truth either. I was in our old blue house, the one before the colony. Dinah and I were both in the doorframes of our rooms, and Dad was just a few paces away from me. I walked forward, and saw the malicious glint in his eyes. Then he hit me.

I looked a Dinah; my little girl was scared out of her wits. I turned back to Dad and got another fist in the face. And then another. Then everything went black. I woke up in a little shabby white apartment, with a little girl named Angel. She was cute, and had golden curls and bright little blue eyes that sparkled with happiness. We were packing, I don't know why, but Angel was practically bouncing off the walls, she was so exited and so interested in what was going on.

She reminded me of Dinah, and I wondered what happened to her. Then, for some unknown reason, we ended up at a gala. There were loads of scientific advancements here, and one person was showing off a time machine. It was a gold ring on the floor with this bubbly, metallic liquid inside. I jumped in, and landed on a flying motorcycle (who said nightmares can't be weird? Hell, my whole life is weird.). I was chasing a renowned thief who was stealing from our Leader. So even through the sewers I was chasing this guy, but he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking as he evaded me easily. The people, my team, was behind me and losing speed. So I kept going.

I kept following him until I turned and hit into a wall and blew up my bike. Crap, third one this week. I walked up in line to get some food for me and Angel. When I got to the front though, this person told me it was 200 coins to get one meal. So I blew up in his face and chucked a plastic bin at him. So much for keeping my cool. My boss was close enough behind me to see the whole thing and I had to turn in my resignation. Double crap on a bun. I walked around for a bit until I ran into something that looked like a big, golden glass elevator. The time machine. I got in to find Angel crying on a sofa. I looked at her. "What's wrong, babe?"

"Why'd you steal them?"

" Steal what?"

" You stole the diamonds, why?"

" I—"

And then I woke up like always. I never answered that question. Then it's off to the labs for more testing and more chemicals are shoved into my system before I have to go in and be told vicious lies all over again. I get to go back to my cage after that and I'll get my one meal of the day, which I'll share with Fang. Iggy and Fang and me seem to be the closest. I haven't really seen the other ones. They hide in their crates a lot.

All that changed though when Jeb took us. It all just happened. We never saw it coming. I remember waking up in the front passenger seat of his 7-person mini van. We were on the highway, and it looked a lot like this one memory I'd rather not repeat. Let's just say I never slept in a car again. So I screamed, waking the others. I've been screaming a lot more lately. Jeb turned his eyes off the road to glare at me and I screamed again as he dodged an armadillo. Then he told me to be quiet. I was, but not because I wanted to. This guy was dangerous, I knew, and making him angry at this point in time is not conducive to living healthfully, or even to just plain living.

After about 6 hours, we were in the Rockies, driving up between drifts of newly fallen snow. In another hour, he said, we get to a house where we were going to live. Another test, that's what I thought. We got there (finally!) to find a modern house on the edge of a cliff. It looked like an E on its side. The inside was much cooler, though. It had a huge living room with an entrance to the kitchen, and then there was a huge window that looked over the mountainside. I got my own room, but I have to share a bathroom with Fang, which, no matter how close of friends we are, is not going to be cool.

The other boys, Iggy and Gasman, got to share a room, as did the other girls. Now I finally got a good look at them. Fang was olive skinned with black hair and the same eyes, Iggy was like a vanilla ice cream with a drop or two of red food coloring on top, Nudge was chocolate colored, with the mouth the size of a dinner plate, Gazzy had golden colored hair and bright blue eyes. Angel? She looked like the Angel from my nightmare.

And then it all clicked into place. I saw these guys in the drawings my mom had made for the cover art of that book. That stupid book. I took everything away from me. I was in my room now, crying softly. Fang came into my room. "Max, what's wrong?"

" I'm not Max."

"Yes, you are. You were never Amanda. She's been dead for 10 years."

I looked up in shock, and he handed me some papers. They were files from Jeb's office. All about two experiments, one was stolen at age five to test adding DNA after live birth and the other was born a human-avian hybrid. The fist one's name was Amanda Rosalie Reinhardt; the other was Maximum Ride. " Amanda is dead, Max. She's gone. That wasn't your life. So let's pick ourselves up and move on. We may not tell the others, that's your decision, but we both know that this thing with Jeb isn't going to last forever. We need to be strong, if not for them, then for us, so we can pick ourselves up every morning and keep going. We need to, Max. It's all we can do."

I'd been silently crying the entire time, my hot tears dripping on to the pages in my lap, the ink flowing down towards the edge of a page. It was kind of odd hearing Fang talk so much, but I think he just wanted me to snap out of it. I probably scared him with all of this. I looked up at him when he finished and said in a tiny voice, " Can I say goodbye?"


	6. Dinah

I know this one is pathetically tiny, but it's filled with important details, and it's the last one for this week, so enjoy. I might try another brain spurt and make another fic this week but that somehow seems unlikely. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride, therefore I can feel no pain in making her feel terribly awful.

I'm waiting in the forest for Fang and Iggy to catch up. It's really funny, the way everything seems to connect to those nights before I came here. Why? It's All Souls Day, and we're leaving to visit the dead. I look up from my perch on the oak tree to look at the moon, so big and white that you fear if you fly up high enough it'll eat you up. Good thing it won't.

Why am I not going alone? It scares me now. I hear their voices. Now I hear Jeb's, too, memorizing everything he's ever said so that I have some connection to him now. I didn't want to feel this way. I know he's been lying about something. We all know he's a whitecoat, but that doesn't mean I don't feel that he's been more of a father to me than anyone else has.

The guys got here, and we began to fly south, right over all the things I can remember. I can see my old blue house from here, the sun's almost risen upon it. I can see that awful night where we almost lost our lives in that accident, I can see the places we always stopped at.

I should stop reminiscing now. I see the remains of our colony, mere ashes compared to the surrounding dirt and plants. I see the graveyard, where they all lie now, peacefully. We circled the graves a couple times before making our descent. I went closer to the freshest graves, Fang and Ig holding back a little bit, both of them silent. For Fang that was normal, but I could tell it affected them both in an eerie, creeped-out way. Walking around, I managed to find everybody's grave, except for Dinah's.

I was freaking out now, running between the rows of graves, and the guys ran after me, worried that I'd fall or fly off. Could they not find her body? Did she escape? Where is she? Where's my little baby? Finally, I did collapse right in front of my mother's grave. "Angela Frank, born 1959- died 2001. Loving mother, sister and friend. May she draw in Heaven. Rest In Peace."

I started to sob, "Why them? Why did you take them from me? I'm all alone now."

Strong, ropy arms came down around me, pulling me into Fang's hard shoulder. "You're not alone, Max. We're here. You'll never be alone."

He held me until I stopped crying and then we flew back to the house, where I had Nudge in charge. " Please tell me you brought food."

" I'll be back in a minute, Nudge."

" No, I'm coming with you. I want food as soon as I can get it."

" Fine. Just keep up, okay?"

She gave me a look that said " I'm going and getting food and you're so not stopping me".

I gave her a small smile and told the guys to keep everyone busy till we got back. "Let's ride."

2 years later

I saw the poor little babies behind the curtain and my heart went cold. Their blood, it was the same as my family's blood, only I can stop theirs from getting spilt. I told the others to help and started to unlock all the cages.

There seemed to be one older girl, around the age of ten. She was an avian hybrid, and her light brown wings stuck out only a little from her body, tucked in as they were. But as she fled from the cage, only one word flooded my mind: Dinah.


	7. Happiness

It's the end for this one! So thanks to everybody who's reviewed!MR

Disclaimer: I own my computer and a pencil. Everything else is owned by somebody else.

It's been 4 years now since I've last seen Dinah. I know she's still out there, and just recently I've restarted the search for her. You can't believe how much I miss that girl. Fang put a post on his blog to look out for her. and it's been about a week. Something might have turned up, right?

Well, if you said yes, you're… absolutely wrong. For the last two weeks nobody's shown up, no information. Nothing. And I'm loathing every second of it. I heard a knock at the door. Must be the Chinese delivery guy bringing sweet and highly caloric goods to the flock at our little apartment that we're living in for the time being.

I opened the door to find a tall, scraggly looking girl about fourteen years old, with chestnut colored hair and dark blue eyes. She wore a bright blue tunic with butterflies on it over black leggings, and stitched on the side was the name Mariposa. "Hey, Dinah."

" Hello, Amanda. Or do you prefer Max now?"

" For the sake of consistency, I'll go with Max. Do you have a new name now, too?"

" Oh, Mariposa? That's just a nickname. I'm still called Dinah."

" Good. I could never see you as anything else."

" Hey, bug sis? How come you didn't find me sooner?"

" You know we're not related right? But anyway, at first I thought you were dead. Then I thought I found you at the Institute, but I wasn't sure…"

" It was me. I remember well. And it's okay. I understand. I thought you were dead, too, until I saw the notice on the blog. Then it took me a while to convince myself to get here, and even longer to get my flock to agree…"

" Your Flock?"

" Yeah, umm… can I come in and grab a coke? I haven't had much in a while."

" Sure. Flat Sprite okay?

" You know me too well, Max."

" I should. I watched your birth."

" So I am Mom's kid."

" Yeah, you weren't born with the wings. They must've given you some advanced treatment to get them to grow at an accelerated rate. Plus you were 6, and they must have given me some treatments every once in a while and caught sight of you in the process. Or that's what I think happened. I'll never know for sure. Speaking of which, can I see them? Your wings, I mean."

Dinah opened them a bit and even while she was on the couch I could see the beauty of her wings. They were like her hair, except for little white spots, and, if you looked close enough, they looked like butterflies painted on there. "That's how I got the name Mariposa."

" You know, it's just like the mural in your room."

" I know. I remember when we had a home. I remember your room, too. The bright and lively forest. It was so like you."

I noticed the blue circles under her eyes." You look tired. Do you want to stay here?"

"I would, but only if I could stay forever."

I smiled." I'll see what I can do."

This, my own little war inside my head, this test, took my best years and gave me something I couldn't imagine. It gave me their love. It gave me Dinah. It gave me grievances, and hopes and dreams and spirit. It gave me friends, and family, for a time. It gave me a reason to get up in the morning. And even though it was ripped from me, I wouldn't give up the good times to release myself from the bad. I had good things then… and now. And if I piece things together right, I might just have what I came for, happiness.


End file.
